September 3, 2010

Nighttime

The house is quiet. All are asleep or close to sleeping, except for the baby and me.

We sit together in the rocking chair. She rests in the crook of my arm and gazes at my face. When I look down at her she smiles suddenly, 
eyes lighting up, 
the corners of her mouth pulled up into soft round baby cheeks. Delighted to have me all to herself she begins to talk, lips pursed and tongue thrusting out, trying for new sounds. She wriggles and arches her back and I put her up on my shoulder where she chews on my bathrobe and drools down my arm. She is getting sleepy and starts to fuss so I turn off the light and cradle her and we rock
back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
and the light from the street coming in through the windows passes over her face as she squirms and her thumb finds its way into her mouth. Her eyelids are heavy and droop further, further, further 
as her small body relaxes into mine and then she is still, 
breathing quietly, 
asleep. 
And I rock her a just a bit longer because she will not be this small for long ... she will not always want to be held ... she will soon learn to find her own way into dreamland 
without me.

1 comment:

Engrafted Lives said...

That was beautiful ma'am. :)